ONCE RUMI’S FINISHED, there’s a long silence as Gogi processes his story.

“Ever since then, my magic has been reduced,” Rumi says morosely.

Banu, who finally made it over just as the vision was ending, scratches his backside as he looks between the flabbergasted shadowwalkers. “What did I miss?”

Gogi pats Banu’s head numbly. “I’ll catch you up later.”

Gogi’s been riveted, barely blinking even though his eyes are bloodshot with fatigue. Sky, despite having lived through it all with Rumi, is equally rapt. Auriel held still the whole time, tongue tasting the air as he listened. Or maybe didn’t listen. Rumi’s still not sure what he’s capable of.

His tale over, Rumi wrings his hands. “So that’s all of it,” he says, directing his voice into the mud. “My curiosity killed hundreds of creatures. The guardians refused to give me the lens because I was . . . unworthy.” Tears, long held back, water his eyes. “And now even my magic is nearly gone. Because I’m evil.”

“Wow,” Banu says. “I really missed a lot, huh?”

Rumi covers his face with his hands. Why isn’t Gogi saying anything?

He cracks his eyes open to see that Gogi’s attention, surprisingly enough, is on Sky. “We wouldn’t have defeated the Ant Queen if you hadn’t been judged worthy of the lens. We’ve been hard on you, but you have redeemed yourself many times over. Thank you, Sky.”

Sky inclines his head awkwardly. “I did collaborate with the snake who betrayed us all. Your resistance to me was understandable.”

Auriel startles and gazes deeply at Sky.

Gogi then does something Rumi never would have expected: he grooms Sky. He clearly doesn’t know what to do with all the feathers, slinking his fingers through and patting them, wiping the oil off on his thighs. Nevertheless, grooming is a very meaningful gesture coming from a social animal like Gogi. “So, Rumi,” Gogi says, his eyes glittering. “About your home swamp.”

Rumi’s eyes go wet again, and he can’t stop his body from trembling. “I’m so sorry!”

“It wasn’t your fault, you big silly,” Gogi finishes. “It was clearly all a misunderstanding. I don’t know why you’ve been letting it bother you so much.”

“But . . . but I destroyed them all,” Rumi whimpers.

“Oh gosh. Rumi, get over here,” Gogi says. He opens up his arms.

Rumi shakes his head, miserable.

Gogi pads over from Sky and carefully wraps his tail around Rumi. Then he curls the rest of his body around him. “Rumi, I know I’m speaking for Mez and Chumba and Lima when I say we love you. No one should hold a mistake against you. I just feel bad that you kept this all inside for so long. You should have told us right away.”

“But I, but I . . .” Rumi sputters.

“You are forgiven, you dope,” Gogi says.

“But—”

“Forgiven, Rumi.”

Gogi’s fur is soft against Rumi’s sensitive frog skin. The trembling that took over his body gradually stills and stops. “Gogi. Thank you.”

“As long as you didn’t just poison me,” Gogi says.

“I managed not to,” Rumi murmurs.

The hum of Gogi’s pulse makes Rumi realize how rarely he’s been in physical contact with his friends, how much his poison skin and intellectual calculations have kept them at a distance. He feels closer to Gogi than he ever has before. And how did it happen? By revealing what he thought was the worst thing about him.

How wonderful hearts are, he thinks to himself. And how very fascinating.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Banu says.

Rumi decides that he should be the one to lead them over the rise and into his home swamp. He can’t see anything yet, but the smell is what brings it back first. There’s a musty tang, tannins from peat moss and the lush rising currents of rotting vegetation. It’s a really wonderful place.

Or was.

As Rumi hops nearer, visions come unbidden to his mind, of downed trees and pulverized froglings, of dead birds sprawled on upturned soil.

“Are you ready for this?” Gogi asks.

“Not really,” Rumi chirps back, “but I never could be. We should go forward anyway.”

“You should at least ride on my head,” Gogi says.

“Yes, that would help,” Rumi says.

Gogi lifts him to sit between his eyebrows, and Sky takes up a position at Gogi’s side. With Banu just behind, and Auriel riding along Gogi’s shoulders, the friends crest the rise.

The trees are still down, giant ironwoods and figs and monguba all interlocking, forming haphazard triangles over the earth.

But each of those fallen giants has sprouted at least a dozen saplings, their reedy trunks a vibrant yellow-green against the open blue sky. Songbirds soar between them, growing nests in the crannies that have opened up in the ravaged trunks. Tree rats nibble on bracket fungus, beneath the flocks of colorful butterflies flitting between the surfaces of the new growth.

“It doesn’t look too bad!” Gogi says.

“Well, that shouldn’t be surprising,” Sky caws. “Life will always find a way.”

“I mean, you did probably slaughter thousands of organisms?” Gogi says. “But the rainforest here seems to be recovering.”

“Felling those giant trees opened up a whole new patch of jungle,” Sky says, tilting his head. “Some of these saplings will someday be giants, and that wouldn’t have been possible without the ancient ones falling.”

“It still feels terrible, what I did,” Rumi says.

“And that’s okay too,” Sky says. “But your only option is to accept it and move on. There’s no alternative.”

“How do you feel, buddy?” Gogi asks.

Rumi considers his emotions. He still feels wretched, but he also feels . . . new. Like back when he’d grown his first legs after spending weeks as an algae-scrounging tadpole. “I think I might eventually get my mind around this whole accepting-my-mistakes thing,” he says.

“You’ve been carrying a lot of weight around,” Sky says.

“Yes,” Rumi replies. “More than I realized.”

Gogi taps his lips. “I mean, if you had stolen food from an elderly anteater and then pushed him into a ditch or something, that would be terrible. But blowing up your home swamp? That could happen to anyone!”

“Monkey logic is very strange, but I can’t say I mind it,” Rumi says. He stares out at the sunset sky, at the possibilities the coming night might bring. “Thanks, Gogi.”

“Might I suggest that we return to my directive feathers?” Sky says. “So we can know what’s happened to Mez, Chumba, and Lima?”

Rumi hops right into the air, landing on his back and flipping over before leaping into the air again. “Mez, Chumba, and Lima! Yes, right away. My heart feels plenty strong enough now.”